


The Memories Chest

by gothica_v



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Or start reading directly by chapter 2, See chapter 1 for who is/will be where...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothica_v/pseuds/gothica_v
Summary: Canon compliant. A collection of moments (shorts, drabbles, ficlets, vignettes - in no particular order...) See CHAPTER ONE for a list of all pieces (characters & timeline), or start reading by chapter two. Fits in my 'From the embers of the shadows in our pasts (a phoenix will rise)' universe, but can be read on its own... Bits originally posted on Tumblr, some as participation in fandom challenges (ie silverflint drabble of the week, rare-pair week, etc...)





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Crutch: Origin (Silver & Flint, post cage/pre cliffs)

Chapter 3: 2 drabbles: 1) He is not like Flint... (Silver POV, after 3.10 but before the cliffs) 2) Flint knows... (Flint POV, spanish raid)

Chapter 4: "Does that mean we're married?" (Silver & Muldoon, post 2.10)

Chapter 5: "If you're not strong enough to do what needs to be done, then I'll do it for you." (Silver POV, 3.03)

Chapter 6: The Owl & The Parrot (s2, Flint POV)

Chapter 7: "Let me tell you a story about a liar and a thief…" (Silver & Flint, 1.02)

Chapter 8: Down a rabbit hole. (Silver POV, 4.10)

Chapter 9: It is all true... (Silver POV, the cliffs of angst 4.09 flashbacks, companion piece to chapter XII)

Chapter 10: And then, Flint was all that was left. (Flint POV, 4.01)

Chapter 11: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL (Silver POV, somewhere s2)

Chapter 12: John is haunted too. (Flint POV, the cliffs of angst, companion piece to chapter IX)

Chapter 13: Everyone wears a mask... (Flint POV, shark date)

Chapter 14: Sword practice. (Silver POV, 4.09 flashbacks)

Chapter 15: No cloud veiling the stars tonight... (Silver POV, somewhere between S2/S3)

Chapter 16: The first time Flint called John by his name (Flint POV, 2.10)

Chapter 17: There is a gun in John's hand... (James POV, 4.10)

Chapter 18: Silver has been taught - the whole damn codebook... (Silver POV, the walk before the cage, Maroon Island)

Chapter 19: He doesn't pray... (Silver POV, early S2)

Chapter 20: James can see Miranda on the porch, with that moron of a pastor... (Flint POV, S1 - 'flinthamiltons')

Chapter 21: "He's still there." (about a year after 4.10, Silver POV)

Chapter 22: "It must be awful being you." (It is.) (Flint, post spanish raid)


	2. Chapter 2

**Silverflint ~~Drabble~~  Ficlet of the Week, 03.09.2018 - Tradition, Captive, Labor (I) **

. 

  
**The Crutch: Origin**  


**.**

_(Set up: going back to Maroons Island - post cage)_

.

“Is it true it’s traditional for the quartermaster to go first over the rail when boarding?"

Flint's silence is long enough to be meaningful. Silver gives a self depreciating chuckle: "Well, no wonder they doubt-”

“Who told you?” Flint interrupts. 

Silver sighs. “Does it even matter?”

Flint just holds his gaze until Silver is miraculously persuaded that it somehow actually does.

“Ben Gunn. While we were captives.”

Flint tilts his head.

“Well, I’m sure he has realized since then that _tradition_ doesn’t have to equal  _obligation_. Every crew is different. A quartermaster is chosen by the men, for the men - and the men decide what he’s to do. So. On this ship? The men simply do not see it as one of your duties.”

Silver is clearly unconvinced. Under the annoying overconfident piece of trash hides an insecure vulnerable man lacking self esteem. And in Flint’s opinion, that discovery has been what has finally made Silver a hard man not to like indeed… So Flint adds, careful in his tone if not in his words:

“It’s not (only) about your leg, you know.”

If looks could kill, Flint’s corpse would have already been thrown overboard. Silver’s eyes are daggers. And yet, the most lethal about them is to be able to discern the hurt under the rage. Flint holds up a pleading hand and explains further.

“You don’t have to prove to them your bravery, nor your loyalty - you already did; twice, even. And I’m here anyway to lead them into battle; the men may not all trust me, but they all trust my sword - as long as it’s not pointing at them at least. We have Joji and Billy too in the vanguard. This crew has plenty of experienced fighters... But only one cook; and some argue you might be - though surprisingly - the best cook we ever got on the Walrus. Do not blame the men for nurturing the man filling their bellies. Labor is labor, and I assure you no one here doubts you’re doing your share.”

(That being said, Flint can’t help but think that *some* training wouldn’t hurt. The path they are on calls for endless battles of the bloodiest kind. But first, then, he needs to carve a crutch…)


	3. Chapter 3

**Silverflint (almost) drabble(s) of the week, 10/09/18: Past, Honesty, Travel. (II)**

_Oups, it seems this combo hit me right in the guts - I had to write TWO pieces… Take your pick ??_

.

**SILVER :**

_(Set up : after 3.10, but before the cliffs)_

He is not like Flint.

His past - even though omnipresent, yet painfully absent - has NOT made him. He simply refuses to be defined by the unending horrors he has had to endure. They made no sense; and so, he wills them to have no meaning. Besides, why should it matter that he should be long dead? He has survived anyway, hasn’t he?

But that lightless path he has had to travel? It led him to Flint. And Flint led him to Madi.

And now, at the side of the both of them, and with the both of them at his side, he finally understands what it is to have a HOME. And, honestly, this is a truth he finds he  _can_  accept being defined by; gladly, even.

Maybe he is just like Flint after all.

.

**FLINT :**

_(Set up : spanish raid)_

Flint knows. The way he always looks at her? The way his breath can’t help but catch, always, whenever he sees her? John’s love for Madi is nothing but honest - pure and unadultered. The self-proclamed master of lies has actually met his TRUTH.

And Flint mourns. He will always mourn. Truths of his own, now forever out of his reach. Both phantoms lost to the past, haunting his dreams; even his waking hours. And the worst, maybe, is that he cannot even mind about this haunting - because it is the last tangible thread linking him to  _them_.

So. Flint won’t have John,  _ever_ , travel that path. 

He’ll save Madi.

He simply has to.

Because if Flint has learned anything, while believing John dead? It is that John has become, too, one of his truths.


	4. Chapter 4

****

**“Does that mean we’re married?” (Silver & Muldoon)**

.

Since John has lost his leg? Muldoon is around. Muldoon is  _always_  around.

/

Muldoon had been volunteering for helping taking care of John while he would recover, regularly bringing clean water or anything Howell (and later John, when he was conscious enough) might need, and alterning waking shifts with Howell while the Captain was on duty… It hadn’t really been unexpected: Muldoon had been one of the first of the men who had accepted John as a crew member - the damn pig forgotten; teaching him who was who in the pirates world, what was what on their ship, and such…

But since John has finally been allowed to leave the cabin? Muldoon hasn’t only continued to devote himself to John’s well-being - enticing the crew to string ropes about everywhere in order to help him move around, and then using those ropes himself too as he walks the deck, as if to prove they appeared out of general commodity and not because of John’s need; mentioning several times a day that it’s time to take care of his wound; even getting Howell himself whenever John doesn’t seem willing to look for the ship Doctor on his own. Muldoon has also turned himself, literally, into John’s shadow; a constant presence at his side except when summoned to the Captain’s cabin - he even helps with peeling the potatoes…

/

The ship needs a cook, of course; and so John combines his new quartermaster duties with his old kitchen obligations - sticking to Flint’s one-time advice for meat and to Randall’s recipes for everything else; and so far remarkably succeeding in keeping the crew diarrhea free…

John sometimes cannot believe he actually turned the gold -  _his earned share_  of the gold - down, and traded the promise of stability and safety for this treacherous, precarious life on the seas: on a ship mostly just waiting to get sunk - be it by a storm or by guns; feeding men he had lost his leg for barely eatable stews, when he could be getting served the most regalian dishes; and still helping a grieving near-mad man who might probably be the death of them all, even now that he has no need of him anymore to get the gold he has turned down. Well; Flint told him once: ‘The more those men need you, the more you need them.’ And John cannot deny that it is true; and that, to him, it apparently includes Flint himself too…

John knows he  _must_  be mad…

But then, John remembers how it felt when the men would stomp their feet with fervor at each of his “Items”. He remembers how it felt when they had cheered for him, naming him their quartermaster. He remembers how it felt to walk in a tavern right after they had reached Nassau, and overhear Muldoon praising him, with evident sincerity, for having saved them all, and how the other attendant crew members had added their share to the story of his bravery, and with enthusiasm (Joji’s nodding included) - John’s presence unbeknownst to them. John remembers how it felt, when Billy had looked at him with wonder but heartfelt gratitude. He remembers how it felt, the odd gentle shine in Flint’s eyes watching over him as he had first awoken from his fever…

And John remembers how it feels, whenever the men pretend not to notice his orders are slightly (or even by far) amiss, and teach him the right words simply by shouting his meant order around. He remembers how it feels, whenever Billy confides his doubts to him. He remembers how it feels, whenever Muldoon insists he should take care of himself. He remembers how it feels, whenever Flint ask for his point of view; and even for his help…

John remembers how it feels to feel accepted, trusted, needed, valuable; and how this simply cannot be bought…

/

And so, John isn’t really surprised, on his agonizingly slow way back to the kitchen (John has insisted on starting using a peg leg, even though Howell thought it still a bit too early, and it is honestly excruciating) after a meeting with the Captain and Billy (planning ship maintenance business instead of their next vengeful spree, for the first time in months), to hear Dobbs whisper to Muldoon as John approaches:

“Your better half has returned, Mu’d (*). I’m to get back on deck.”

Having taken the offered knife as their paths cross, John then smirks at Muldoon as he finally takes his seat back, pointing at Dobbs’s retreating back.

“Does that mean we’re married?”

It was meant solely as some joyful banter in order to hide his wince as he sat down to finally get some release from the throbbing dizzying pressure on his wound; and John has been expecting the usual playful hit at his shoulder as Muldoon would laugh.

It is though anything but a joke it seems, judging from Muldoon’s behaviour: he can’t actually retort with more than a surprisingly shy “Well - huh - you know the guys”, somehow tripping on his strangled words, somehow embarassed, eyes stubbornly glued to the potato in his hand; and it suddenly dawns on John that Muldoon somehow  _wishes_  that it could be what it could mean?

And John actually can’t talk.

Because Muldoon is a pirate - has been for quite some time and has managed to survive, which speaks for itself, sure; but he is definitely one of the kindest men, not only on the Walrus, but of all the places John has ever been to. Because John has never felt Muldoon looking at him in that way: that power-play threatening vibe John had come long ago to recognize - and to turn around to his own advantage; in time. And because John has surely thought his looks could never be used anymore to his advantage to start with…

It makes no sense. No sense at all. How can Muldoon  _want_  him  _now_ ; he’s but a one-legged creature… Even assuming that he had missed that Muldoon then, maybe, had been attracted to him in a physical way  _before_ , it should have surely disappeared along with his gone limb. Who could be attracted to a cripple? Such a physical response couldn’t be provoked out of thankfulness, right? …

And then Muldoon meets his gaze and there’s a soft resonating “Fuck” out of Muldoon’s mouth, as he realizes John has realized…

And John still can’t talk.

Because John is actually surprised. Of being surprised in the first place. Of not feeling threathened in any way in the second - and that’s how John knows just how much he has come to actually  _trust_  Muldoon. And of feeling, even, oddly flattered, somehow?

And then there’s panick, and obvious pleading, as Muldoon paces in front of John - blocking John’s way out, his old instincts notice - except it’s clearly unintentionnal as it seems Muldoon is only wondering about if he should flee the room himself. 

“I - Sorry - I swear - That’s not why - Fuck - I surely don’t expect - Shit - You weren’t supposed to find out - (distressed helpless desperate short sound) - Can you please say something? Preferably, that you’re not disgusted?”

And Muldoon is so agitated that it dawns onto John that Muldoon is  _scared_ \- not of being refused a fuck he wasn’t hoping for to start with, not even of being judged; but of losing the relation he has build with John. So. Is that the answer? Does Muldoon  _care_  about him? (And enough for it to counterbalance the revulsion his grotesque form must provoke?) The whole concept feels absurd, and yet…

And John can’t help but think then that his own reaction makes no sense either. Would it have been any other man, John would already be plotting about how to use this new knowledge to his own benefit. If anything, caring made people weak and pathetic, easy to manipulate, right… But it’s  _Muldoon_ ; and there’s only a sort of warmth that spreads through John - a comforting, secured warmth - even though laced with concern, as John realizes he feels inexplicably somehow sorry for not being able to return Muldoon’s… feelings?

“I-” John starts, but is startled silenced at the sudden stillness in Muldoon at the sound of his voice. It’s not only that the pacing stops, or that his eyes stop jumping erratically between John’s and the floor to suddenly freeze on John’s; it looks as if Muldoon has actually stopped breathing.

And so it comes out in a rush, because John does want Muldoon to breathe.

“I don’t- I can’t. But to know you see, to know you care? It’s- I’m not disgusted. And it doesn’t change my opinion about you.”

Muldoon starts breathing again. He seems to hesitate a moment, searching through John’s eyes. Then he finally holds up one fist - with a still unsure smile though: 

“Still friends then?”

And John realizes no one has actually called him 'Friend’ until now. He’s mostly a loner; and has had, at the best, accomplices - Solomon’s gang; Max; Flint, even, sort of, before and after playing him at least… But friends? 

John remembers Rachel though. And her parting gift. She had been a friend to him, hadn’t she - no matter that the word had never been mentioned… And John realizes that there’s a selfless ring to that word; and in a way, it’s terrifying. But Muldoon is looking at him with open need, and John simply cannot refuse him this; not after having just refused him something else a moment before. He punches Muldoon’s waiting fist, holding Muldoon’s gaze.

“Still friends.”

Muldoon bites the corner of his mouth nervously but sits back, resuming his potatoe peeling as if it was a privilege to be allowed to do so. John tells him about the coming maintenance; about how they’re going to cook those damn potatoes today; about what Howell told about his leg (at least, the best part of that conversation). And Muldoon finally feels settled back enough, and starts chatting away too. And John feels privileged too.

/

They never mention it again. But weeks later, as they hurry to close as best as they can the holes in the hull of the ship on their way to face the most severe tempest John has ever seen? Muldoon repeats John’s exact words from then.

“Does that mean we’re married?”

John is startled. Unsure. Is Muldoon somehow - now?since?still? - hoping for more than he can give?

But when John’s eyes meet Muldoon’s? There’s only fondness and mirth to see; and John realizes that this line is just  _theirs_  now. An inside joke, to release some stress. A recognition of the bond they share, to find strength and get through that storm. There is no ulterior motive in Muldoon’s eyes; and John is free to chuckle, sealing his understanding and acceptance.

/

And then Muldoon is gone; and John won’t, can’t, stop holding his hand…

It takes three men to pry him away.

.

_(*The crew calls Muldoon Mu’d (and I call him M'oon) … Forgive me for my silly headcanons.)_

_(John is emotionnally clueless. Look at him learning people *can* have a heart; and learning *he* has a heart too. I need a hug.)_

_(Also: DAMN THAT SCENE. I’ll never get over it. I need another hug.)_

.

_M: You don’t need to be doing this. I can finish it._

_S: I’m useless to 'em up top. Gotta do my part somehow._

_M: You shouldn’t talk that way, you know. We got our share of useless fucks on this crew. You ain’t one._

_S: This is the second time in the last few months I’m facing certain death. And here you are again offering moral support._

_M: Does that mean we’re married?_

_S: [soft laugh]_


	5. Chapter 5

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 17/09/18: Red, Fault, Drought (III)**

**.**

_“If you’re not strong enough to do what needs to be done, then I’ll do it for you.” (3.03)_

.

Silver is seeing red - and not from the bloody gore oozing on the deck.

How dare he? Hint that *this* is *his* fault? Surely there should have been another way to deal with that situation. Will Flint ever learn? There is  _always_  another way…

But Silver’s anger vanishes, the moment he opens the cabin.

Flint is on the floor; lost in guilt, shamelessly crying. (Again.)

Silver closes the door. Stands guard in front of it - no one must witness the state their Captain is in.

The drought they’re suffering *will* end. But the drought in Flint’s heart…


	6. Chapter 6

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 24/09/18: Owl, Horizon, Scream. (IV)**

**.**

_(Set up: somewhere season 2)_

.

Peaceful waves until the horizon - welcome change, after last storm. Remote, the men are babbling away, expelling their fears with some silly game, presumably Muldoon’s idea…

“The Captain is an owl, by any symbol it carries. Athena’s bird - goddess of warfare, vigilance, wisdom. His reputation as harbinger of death brings fear in our enemies’s heart - which brings us luck in turn.”

Sudden silence - echoing like a scream. Not a good omen, Flint thinks. His voice is assured, yet joking, as he barks into the night: “Better an owl than a chatty parrot, Mr Silver.”

Laughs. Mission accomplished. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 01/10/18: Villain, Water, Book. (V)**

_._

**"Let me tell you a story about a liar and a thief…"**

_._

_(Set up: 1.02 - sort of intro if Thomas ever was to write a book… (and then demonstate in the following pages how they are NOT villains indeed…(Thomas is the origin for the 'in this essay i will…' meme:)))_

.

Flint knows Silver is a born thief. Stealing that page from the logbook; even not knowing its exact value? Stealing Death; managing to escape her thrice, only in the last hours, with evident skilled practice?

Silver knows Flint is an intrinsic liar - master in that art, seemingly effortlessly manipulating his crew in his chosen direction, with nothing more than air, words, and panache.

And so, here and now, by the water edge? Eye to eye, both knowing they are both cheats ? What can those two villains do, other than associate in order to reach rogues's oldest common goal: gold!


	8. Chapter 8

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 08.10.2018 - Story, Pistol, Rabbit (VI)**

_(Set up: 4.10 - i blame the tags…)_

_._

The object in his hand feels like the most terrible, dreadful weight Silver ever held. Keeping that pistol directed at Flint? It's going down a rabbit hole. The path is dark, uncertain, and you can't know how nor where it ends - no matter your expectations.

Flint just mentioned stories, distorted narratives, and monsters. But the only monster Silver fears right now is the one he might have to become, if he fails at convincing Flint of  _yet another way, just that once more_. All he has is a name, and his sincere faith that it *must* be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 15.10.2018 - Trust, Energy, Mother (VII)**

_(Set up: the cliffs of angst *my heart*, Silver POV)_

_._

Of course, Flint has seen right through his stories…

And yet…

' _It is all true_ ', he wants to say. ' _I never knew my mother. I grew up in a home for boys. I was acquainted with Solomon Little._ ' Worse still; potentially too revealing. ' _I am no one. From nowhere. Belonging to nothing._ '

He finds the energy though to catch those apparently meaningless words trapped in his throat, before they can escape.

It's not that he doesn't trust Flint to understand. It's that he trusts him to understand _too well_. And he  _cannot_  have him doubt his friendship.


	10. Chapter 10

**And then, Flint was all that was left...**

**.**

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 22.10.2018 - Pirate, Grace, Fire (VIII)**

_(Set up: 4.01)_

.

Losing Thomas had been his Fall from Grace. Any trace of lingering innocence lost, as he had intrinsically understood how the world truly was just unfair, and uncaring.

Losing Miranda had left him in ruins. Her fire - his energy to go on - extinguished, he had turned into her vengeful ghost, willing to burn everything down to ashes.

But then…

The man uninterested in being a pirate had somehow given him yet another reason to live on; besides revenge and wishful ideals.

So, now?

Losing John too is the last straw. James is utterly destroyed, hopelessly gone: walking corpse, empty shell.


	11. Chapter 11

**HALLOWEEN SPECIAL !**

**Silverflint (double) drabble of the week, 29.10.2018 - Love, Tease, Haunted (IX)**

_(Set up: somewhere S2, Silver POV)_

_._

He knows about curious habits on the night called ‘All Hallows’ Eve’, but he never heard about that particular one: divination by hazelnuts roasting? He plays along anyway, of course…

_Where is Flint?_

Planning? Brooding? Reading perhaps? He sighs. The Captain loves his books, and it’s his right; but shouldn’t it be one of his duties too to mingle with the men from time to time?

Muldoon’s voice lures him out of his musings.

Casual: “They’re done, Billy.”

Teasing: “You and the lovely Charlotte might well stick together 'till the end after all, Logan.”

Supportive: “Go for it, Joji!”

There’s a sudden 'pop’ as two hazelnuts jump away from the fire in front of him.

Contrite: “Sorry John, it seems you shouldn’t fall for that one; it won’t end well.”

He wants to shrug. He has much more pressing matters haunting his thoughts than to worry about the supposed opinion of hazelnuts… He puts his best smile on instead and winks: “Well, let me know when the right one comes along then?”

He makes sure he addresses everyone before taking his leave - a word, a shoulder tap, a head tilt…

_Where is Flint?_

 

> WIKIPEDIA: Two hazelnuts would be roasted near a fire; one named for the person roasting them and the other for the person they desire. If the nuts jump away from the heat, it is a bad sign, but if the nuts roast quietly it foretells a good match. 
> 
> #EVERYONE KNOWS BILLY IS JUST HERE FOR EATING #LOGAN AND CHARLOTTE WILL STICK TOGETHER TILL THE END #I JUST WANTED JOJI TO BE HAPPY FOR SOME TIME #SILVER IS ALREADY OBSESSING OVER FLINT EVEN IF HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND WHY NOR HOW MUCH YET #AND IT WON'T WENT WELL #WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELF???


	12. Chapter 12

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 29.10.2018 - Love, Tease, Haunted (IX)**

_(Set up: Flint POV, the cliffs of angst, companion piece to 'chapter IX')_

_._

_“You know of me all I can bear to be known; all that is relevant to be known. That is to say, you know my genuine friendship and loyalty. Can that be enough and there still be trust between us?”_

.

John is indeed being sincere. He is nervous; but if anything? It makes the words even more candid. The hasty retreat from the day before was panick - but not from lies seen through…

John is haunted too. And sadly, by something even more horrific than the ghosts of lost loves.

James somehow wishes he could help; tease it all out - extract John’s demons, one by one, until they are all expelled. But it’s clear that John isn’t ready to face those past shadows, and pretend instead they do no matter - nor even exist.

And it’s heartbreaking.


	13. Chapter 13

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 5.11.2018 - Revolution, Mask, Dance (X)**

_(Set up: ‘shark date’)_

_._

Everyone wears a mask. It is both a sign of trust and a leap of faith to put it off for someone. James is never the first to.

Thomas’s lordly wig.

Miranda’s polite smile.

John’s damn pretenses; all of them, now unveiled…

James can’t help but realize  _how much_  he has been waiting, for some time, for this evolution - this  _revolution_.

And as they emerge victorious from their dark dance with that shark? James thinks it is maybe time for him to shed Flint’s persona, show John his true face too. He honestly wants to…


	14. Chapter 14

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 12.11.2018 - Blade, Record, Rock (XI)**

_(Set up: sword practice)_

Their blades meet - for the seventeenth strike in a row. A new record! John can’t help but feel proud somehow - which only signs his defeat, of course, as James expertly passes him, halting his sword right before John’s heart, smug smile on his face:

“Let’s take a break.”

John sits on a nearby rock. James hands him the bottle before sitting on the ground:

“You’re starting to get the gist of it.”

John feels his cheeks reddening at the praise, but just cannot care. His pride stopped long ago to be an issue between them, indeed…


	15. Chapter 15

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 19.11.2018 - Moonlight, Map, Paint (XII)**

_(Set up: somewhere between s2/s3)_

No cloud veiling the stars tonight, as Flint calculates their course.

Keys to the future painted by God(s); some say. Souls gone back where they came from; others say.

A practical map; Flint demonstrates.

For Silver, likewise, the stars hold no grand meaning, have no secret agenda. But he remembers first discovering those dots of light, and feeling that, simply by being, they made his sordid world a better place…

Catching the constellations on Flint’s arms in the moonlight, Silver can’t help but make a surprising connection. Somehow, he feels the same about those particular stars too.


	16. Chapter 16

**The first time Flint called John by his name… ~~(…in his mind, but it still counts…)~~**

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 26.11.2018 - Wine, Paper, Lock (XIII)**

_(Set up: 2.10, Flint POV)_

_._

Shuffling through papers about stock and necessaries supplies, Flint can't help but constantly check over his (official yet unaware) new quartermaster.

Silver still hasn't come around since his surgery - three days ago. He's quiet - for now - but Flint knows the battered wound under the covers is still angry; ugly, fierce wine red. Howell did, and does, his best; but the fever refuses to settle down. The men worry.

Flint sighs. Honestly? He worries too. Seeing the man in such a poor state makes it hard to maintain the usual lock on his feelings.

_You must fight, John!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Silverflint (double) drabble of the week, 03.12.2018 - Snow, Gun, Remorse (XIV)**

_(Set up: 4.10, James POV - I blame the tags)_

There is a gun in John’s hand. Pointing at him. And James actually believes John *will* take that shot.

So. Surely, he should feel much more enraged and betrayed than he feels right now? Maybe it is because he is finally too exhausted to fight on. Maybe it is because he has been warned, once, somehow. Whatever the reason, anyway: James knows he simply *cannot* kill John; not even to save his own life.

And yet.

John is the one livid and trembling - as if he is the one about to die. And the terrible thing is that somehow, he *will*.

There is nothing but remorse in John’s eyes; and its depths are obviously sincere. James can plainly see that John *knows* that if he pulls that trigger, some part of him will die along his Captain - and come back to haunt him till the end of his days. Even thick, eternal snow wouldn’t be able to cover his blood in John’s mind…

And James knows he would mourn that particular loss; more than his own death.

So James waits; foolishly wishing, and not even for his own sake, that John might make the other choice.


	18. Chapter 18

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 10.12.2018 - Tactile, Impulse, Heavy (XV)**

_(Set up: the walk before the cage, Maroon Island)_

_._

Silver has been taught - the whole damn codebook: how and when to look / pose / speak / touch - to constantly be aware of how he presents himself. So indeed, he appears tactile; easily. In truth, he is not - especially whenever on the receiving end of any touch without warning…

Yet. Now.

Flint’s hands on him. Holding him up; helping him onwards. And Silver is not only grateful - he finds himself wishing for this contact. The absence of the usual impulse - to flee the heavy, constricting hands upon him - is honestly dumbfounding.

Silver realizes just how much he truly, intrinsically, trusts Flint.


	19. Chapter 19

**Silverflint drabble of the week, 17.12.2018 - Contempt, Pray, Glass (XVI)**

_(Set up: early S2, Silver POV)_  

 .

He doesn’t pray. Not that he doesn’t know how - even though it is true; but he simply can’t comprehend the need. If he’s learned anything after all, it’s that no God is coming to save you: you have to save yourself.

But he believes. He believes in Flint - in his rage, and his cunning. And maybe - maybe - Flint believes in him too. The obvious contempt from their early days has turned into something else, since they boarded that spanish warship.

Flint holds a glass to him, to celebrate his just reattained captaincy.

He takes it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Flinthamiltons ~~(instead of Silverflint)~~  drabble of the week, 17.12.2018 - Contempt, Pray, Glass  ~~(the prompts inspired me)~~  **

_(Set up: S1, Flint POV)_

.

Through the glass, James can see Miranda on the porch, with that moron of a pastor. She is flirting; and the fool is enraptured.

Good.

The only God James prays to is their God of Good and Love. He has nothing but contempt for Lambrick’s rigid, judging faith and its myriad of cruelties done in God’s name by allegedly civilised, but in truth intolerant, prejudiced men. Of course James wishes for Lambrick to fall from his bigoted supposed Grace.

If anyone is up to the task; it’s Miranda, indeed. You bet she’d savour that victory too.


	21. Chapter 21

**Silverflint combi(double)drabble of the week, 24.12.2018 - Light, Music, Letter + 31.12.2018 - Celebrate, Dream, Melody (XVII + XVIII)**

_(Set up: about a year after 4.10, Silver POV)_

.

“He’s still there.”

No matter how often John reads that letter from Hands (gone to keep an eye on Nassau; a ‘slight’ detour on the way), it still feels unreal: dreamlike; impossible.

John hadn’t expected James and Thomas to stay put for long… Guilt and shame had followed the initial surprise; and have never left.

Not only because John knows he *is* responsible for putting James there in the first place; but even more, for the  _relief_  he simply cannot shake, each and every time he reads those words: because it *must* mean James is happy enough to stay there, somehow; and because James isn’t completely lost to him then…

The waves are musically lapping at the cliffs, and their gentle melody brings John back to those precious days of camaraderie. It is a painful celebration, to remember what has once been - and what can never be again; but forgetting would be an even worse option.

“I’m sorry I’m not as sorry as I probably ought to be”, John whispers to the light breeze, before going back to his Madi.

They are both alive. And they are both loved. That’s all that counts, right.


	22. Chapter 22

**It must be awful being you (It is)**

.

_In the aftermath of the Spanish raid, and before they reach Maroon's Island, James dreams… (guilt induced nightmare)_

.

The darkness feels oppressive, and inescapable. James can't discern anything.

But then.

There are murmurs in the dark; voices James knows well; voices he can't help but being drawn too - no matter what they say.

(Eleanor) "We're stuck in here, aren't we?"

(Miranda) "Indeed."

(Madi) "And it's his fault."

(Miranda) "Yes. It's all his fault."

There's some light finally; like a distant sun rising from behind them.

But James cries out: it only makes it worse.

Miranda is presiding, blood oozing from the hole on her forehead; Madi and Eleanor seated at her sides, obviously hanging to her every words. Madi's skin is cracked and burnt. Eleanor's dress is stained red at her belly, where her hand fails to keep the wound shut.

But the worst yet is to see their hardened faces; the contempt in their eyes echoing the one in their voices as they blame him.

There are crew members standing behind them - missing flesh, missing breath: a repulsive mix of broken or bloodied or drowned bodies; their silence as condemning as Miranda's words. It's her salon, here. They all listen to her, spellbound. They all agree to her logic.

First in line are Gates and Vane, necks forever bent at an unnatural angle.

"He fooled us all. Had us think he cared; about ourselves, about our rights, about our future. And then he failed us all; no matter how often we had saved his life - from a noose, from a blade, from a gun, from a cage; from his enemies, and even from himself…"

Eleanor turns to Vane.

"I should have let you kill him long ago."

"And I will kill him for you when the time comes."

Miranda's fist hits the table with determination.

"But mark my words; he'll pay. We'll shoot him, burn him, drown him, stab him, tear into him, strangle him, hang him, make him fall from great height. One death would be too merciful for his crimes. He'll die, over and over, until he's paid his debt to each and every one of us. And then we'll push him into Hell where he belongs - that will surely deliver us from this limbo. For now: we wait. But reckoning will be ours."

The crowd cheers. Eleanor and Madi smile - a voracious, ferocious, terrible smile.

Then the crowd part, somehow reverently, as the light that was shining from behind moves forward.

It's a tall, lean form, radiating bright - so bright it's blinding; but James knows exactly who is coming anyway.

And James could weep; from being denied seeing him - even knowing how much it would hurt, to look at his probably mangled body too.

Thomas bows, whispering into Miranda's ear. Her voice is not her own as she utters, ethereal.

"Wasted lifes, all of us. In my name; supposedly. But this has never been my design. And I fear more are doomed to join our ranks, before retribution comes."

So James is denied hearing Thomas's voice too. But the words; oh the words: they carve themselves onto his heart.

Miranda blinks, herself again, laying a hand on Thomas's hand on her shoulder, as he now stands straight at her back.

She turns to Madi, lays her other hand on hers soothingly.

"I'm afraid your John will be next."

Madi fires back instantly.

"I've warned John Silver; he knows Captain Flint is not to be trusted."

But Miranda insists, voice implacable - a fate decided.

"He was lucky once; that's more than any of us can tell. He won't be lucky twice."

Madi's 'Nooooooooooooo' still echoes in James's ears as he wakes up, out of breath.

/

And James takes an oath.

He will  _not_  fail John.

He  _has_  failed Thomas.

He  _has_  failed Miranda.

He  _has_  failed Eleanor, and Madi.

He  _has_  failed Vane.

He  _has_  failed Gates - failed to persuade him, at least.

He  _has_  failed loyal crew members who had chosen to follow him and paid for it with their life.

Lovers, Mother, Daughters, Allies; all gone because of him, before their sins could be purged.

James has failed so many - too much.

But James will not fail John. He'll save him.

Because maybe, if he saves one, he saves them all.

God's mercy shouldn't shine on him; he is long damned and knows it anyway. But it would shine on them - on all of them.

So yes.

He'll save John.

No matter what.

If it's the last thing he does.

He'll save John.


End file.
